


Singularity

by thetrishtalgem



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetrishtalgem/pseuds/thetrishtalgem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerome always preferred to keep to himself. He never expected to find anyone as appealing as the young prince of Ylisse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singularity

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fic I based off of this song: https://soundcloud.com/amarantemusic/singularity?in=kristen-pose/sets/amarante
> 
> Featuring a Chrom!Inigo and pretty much any Gerome you want I guess. I tried going for a Stahl!Gerome because Cherche and Stahl will be the death of me they are so cute. Like the tag says, this is going to get fairly angsty but I do hope you guys enjoy. :)

The moon hung suspended in the glittering night sky, its pale rays beaming down on the earth below. Each star dotting the night sky gleamed brightly despite being millions of miles away. The air was damp and the ground soft from the rainstorm earlier that day. Not much noise could be heard in the forest save for the occasional snap of a twig or scuffle of leaves as the lone wyvern rider, a few years shy of ten, meandered through.

Then came the panicked breathing that caught the boy’s attention. He looked around and headed towards the small clearing he knew was in the woods. Silently he crept through the foliage and stepped into the clearing. He felt his chest tighten at what he saw.

Another boy about his age turned, his entire body tense. He had tousled dark blue hair that framed his face. He was about a full head shorter than the wyvern rider and looked terrified. But what was most noticeable were the boy’s eyes. The wyvern rider felt himself getting lost in this boy’s brown eyes. The sheer terror that filled them almost made his heart break.

“Wh-who’s there?” the smaller boy called out. “Will you help me find my way home?”

“You’re...lost?” the wyvern rider asked.

“I-I was out here practicing my dancing, and I-I don’t know how to get home from here.” Anxiety leaked through his voice and his words quickened with each passing moment.

“I know the way back to town,” the wyvern rider said. The boy’s entire face suddenly lit up and he came rushing towards him, pleading, “Will you take me back? Please?”

The wyvern rider’s chest tightened again. He wasn’t one for company, or people in general. As a matter of fact, he was incredibly shy and loathed conversation. But he found himself getting lost in this boy’s eyes. He even noticed a brand in one of them. His heart pounded. It almost looked like the brand of the exalt, belonging only to the royals of the House Ylisse. The wyvern rider had heard from his mother stories of her comrade’s children. Though he never took the time to acquaint himself with any of them or remember their names. He nodded his head silently, fearing the consequences of refusing the boy he believed to be the prince and scolding himself for his apathy. The blue haired boy beamed a bright smile.

“Thank you, thank you...um...what’s your name?” he asked.

“Gerome,” the wyvern rider grumbled. “My name is Gerome.”

“Gerome…” the blue-haired boy trailed off. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Inigo.”

Inigo. The name sounded familiar. Gerome tried to remember the conversations he had with his mother about the other children. He recalled something about Inigo being fond of dancing, just as his mother was.

A voice snapped Gerome out of his thoughts, “Are you Cherche’s son? I’ve heard stories about you from when your mother and father visit mine.”

“...Yes. I am,” Gerome answered curtly.

“Wow! So you are real!” Inigo exclaimed. Gerome shot him an incredulous look.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, whenever all the other parents come over to play, you never show. Us kids started to think you may not have even existed. You should come play with us sometime! I’d hate it if you were lonely.”

Gerome fell silent. Sure, he had caretakers to watch over him when his parents would leave for their missions, but Gerome hadn’t ever taken the time to make friends. His parents made the effort to invite their friends over from time to time, whom would bring their children. But Gerome never once found a reason to get close with anyone. Each attempt usually ended with both children disgruntled and the parents deciding not to bring their precious babies back.

“I don’t need friends,” Gerome mumbled. Inigo stopped dead in his tracks, causing Gerome to turn and face him.

“Everybody needs a friend,” Inigo argued, folding his arms across his chest. “So I’ll be your friend!”

Gerome’s face flushed. Who did this boy think he was? Why was he so persistent in Gerome’s personal affairs? Gerome just turned and continued walking, silently wishing he had never left to wander the forest that night. Shortly after he had turned, Gerome heard the crunching of leaves again and saw the mop of blue hair out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t long before Inigo pulled ahead of him.

“Hey, I think I know where we are now!” he exclaimed, running off. Gerome took off behind him.

“Inigo, wait!” he called after him. Gerome was impressed. Inigo was fast. He finally managed to catch up once they were out of the woods and on the outskirts of town. 

Gerome stopped to catch his breath, only to have the wind knocked out of him as Inigo barreled into him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Inigo shouted. “I don’t know if I would’ve ever found my way home by myself!”

“You’re welcome,” Gerome grumbled. “Please get off of me."

Oblivious to his discomfort, Inigo let go of Gerome and started to run off, turning and waving to him, “I’ll see you sometime soon!”

 

 

Gerome’s knuckles rapped on the large oak door. He knew Inigo was in there. Whenever something bothered the prince, he would always retreat to his room. Gerome knew that, considering everything that had happened in the past few days, Inigo must be beside himself.

“Inigo, open the door,” he called through the door.

“It’s open,” the prince finally answered back, his voice small and meek.

Gerome pushed the door open and cautiously walked in. Inigo sat on the edge of his bed, facing away from the door. His head rested in his hand and he continued to stare out onto the balcony. Slowly he turned his head to look at Gerome. He mustered a small smile and a heavy sigh, turning to face away from him.

“...Inigo?” Gerome called out to him, pulling the door closed behind him.

“What?” Inigo answered. His broken voice stunned Gerome for a moment.

“You’ve been holed up in here for the past few days,” Gerome finally managed. “Some of us are starting to worry about you."

“There’s no need to, I’m fine,” Inigo laughed, his voice suddenly quieting. “I have to be.”

“Inigo, you lost both of your parents. Nobody expects you to be fine after that,” Gerome argued.

“You really think so?” Inigo’s voice raised. “Because I’m pretty sure there’s an entire country out there of people, looking to Lucina and I for guidance! For leadership! And the prince that always smiles can’t show weakness. Not now. I have to be strong, for them...for my sister.”

Tears streaked down Inigo’s cheeks as he spoke. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Apprehensively Gerome stepped forward, sitting next to Inigo on the bed. He wrapped an arm around the prince, attempting to console him.

“Stop,” Gerome sighed. “Look at me.”

He brushed Inigo’s hands away and titled his face to look him in the eyes. Inigo’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Tears still pricked at their corners. Gerome brought his hand up and wiped some away, thanking the Gods that the mask he wore was able to conceal the blush that spread across his cheeks. He took in a shaky breath.

“Nobody can expect you to be perfectly fine after losing both of your parents. I’m impressed you’ve honestly been strong enough to not just completely give up…” Gerome lost track of what he was saying. He was almost in a trance, looking into Inigo’s eyes.

“G-Gerome…” Inigo stuttered, pulling Gerome out of his trance.

Both boys leaned closer. Eagerly they closed the gap between them. Gerome felt a spark of electricity shoot through his entire body at the embrace. Inigo’s lips were soft against his. Slowly Inigo’s hands trailed up Gerome’s arm and ran through his hair. He snagged the strap of Gerome’s mask, but Gerome pulled away before Inigo could slip it off. It took Inigo a moment to catch his breath and find his voice again.

“You’ve been the reason I’ve carried on this far,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes stayed locked with Gerome’s.

Gerome, overcome with a passion and drive he’d never felt before, pushed Inigo back onto his bed and crashed his lips into the prince’s. They stayed there, entangled in each other’s embrace for several hours before anyone came searching for them.

 

 

One advantage to being a wyvern rider was that Gerome was able to see the entire battlefield all at once. From his perch in the sky, Gerome kept a close surveillance on the prince. Inigo’s movements with his sword were fluid and quick, conviction behind every swing of his arm. Gerome’s heart raced watching him. Though he knew he had nothing to worry about, Gerome still could not bring himself to look anywhere else but at Inigo.

The disadvantage to riding a flying mount, however, was their vulnerability to arrows. Gerome had been too preoccupied watching Inigo fight that he failed to notice the risen soldier raise his bow and take aim. Minerva’s shriek of pain as she fell to the ground was what finally brought Gerome out of his trance. She came crashing to the ground, knocking her rider off of her quite violently. Gerome struggled to stop his head from spinning as he scrambled to his feet, using his axe to support him up.

Practically as soon as he had been thrown, a risen mage had set upon him. Haphazardly Gerome swung his axe, just barely cutting at the mage’s torso. He knew that blow wouldn’t be enough to take down a soldier raised from the dead. The mage flipped through pages of his tome, chanting a spell and casting a bolt of Thoron directly at Gerome. Gerome had no time to dodge the strike and fell to his knees, his vision blurring. In the distance, he could hear the panicked cries of somebody and saw the mage before him fall. A pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders and hoisted him up.

“Brady! Brady come quick…” the voice called out. Gerome recognized it as Inigo’s and struggled to keep his eyes open. Inigo looked down at him, undoing the strap of his mask. Too weak to protest, Gerome allowed him to take the mask off.

For the first time since they had met, Gerome and Inigo were able to look into each other’s eyes. Gerome could see the tears pricking at the corners of Inigo’s eyes and almost wanted to laugh. The prince was such a crybaby about everything. Gerome felt the urge to chastise him and even tried to speak, but found he was unable to say anything beyond incomprehensible grunts of pain.

“Shh...it’s okay,” Inigo comforted him, brushing strands of hair out of his face. “You’re going to be okay. Just sit tight. Stay with me!”

Gerome could hear the muffled sounds of someone else rushing to his side. But he found himself unable to stay any longer. He had fought hard enough for the promise of a new future, and had gotten much farther than he ever expected to. The rest of the company could surely carry on the fight without him. Gerome took one, longing look at Inigo’s face and prayed that he would find him in the afterlife. Before he slipped away, he heard Inigo speak to him one last time.

“Keep your eyes open, just a little bit longer…”


End file.
